


No Need to Apologize

by SpaceIdiot



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Like fluuuuuffff, Major fluffy fluff, did i say fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceIdiot/pseuds/SpaceIdiot
Summary: Holmes works too hard on a strenuous case where Watson is kidnaped, and falls into a fever once the case is over.





	No Need to Apologize

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on tumblr!

"My dear Watson," he gasped, "You could have been killed!"  
I tried to smile gently. "There, there," I said, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "Why don't you lay back down, hm?"  
I put an arm around him and led him back to his bed. The poor man had been through a great deal over the past few days. It was quite a case, the details of which I will lay out at some point I'm sure, but here I will only say, the villain with which Holmes had entangled himself had, much to my own embarrassment, taken me hostage in hopes that the threat on my life would keep Holmes from pursuing him further. My friend had, in a way entirely remarkable, managed to secure my life as well as put the villain behind bars, as I knew he would. The unfortunate thing was, though, that Holmes had so exerted himself over this case, that once it had finished he fell almost instantly into a terrible fever. For the past three days I had been tending him, but he showed no signs of improvement. On the second day he had begun to rant and rave, a side effect of the fever I imagined, about how he had put my life at risk when he'd pursued the evil man, and should never have done so. Each time I told him he was being quiet ridiculous, and had done exactly what needed to be done and the only one who was the worse for it was the villain. Today he had taken to getting up out of his bed, where I had strictly commanded him to stay, to grab me in attempts to apologise.  
"You won't get any better," I said, "If you don't stay in bed."  
I pulled the covers over his legs, trying to get him to lay back, when the next thing I knew he had sprung out of bed and wrapped his arms tightly around my chest, burying his face in my shoulder.  
"I could have lost you," he said in half a sob. I felt the words go straight to my heart. My emotions, for a moment, nearly took me over, but when I felt that his forehead was burning hot I knew I had to get him back to bed.  
"You do realize I have ribs," I said, trying to remove myself from his grasp, "And that they are breakable."  
He ducked back, wiping his face. I think the medicine I had given him was starting to kick in.  
"Sorry," he mumbled.  
"No need to apologise," I said gently. "Now, to bed with you."  
I tucked him in, and within moments he was asleep. Much to my delight, around 2 o'clock that morning, his fever broke, and he remembered little to nothing that had happened in the past three days.


End file.
